You can't shock a chippie. Fact

There comes a point in the night after which, drunk people should stay on the dance floor where they can't embarrass themselves becasue no one can hear them talk and their flails look like wild moves if only lit by a strobe. When they stray off it to get chips, that's when the trouble starts...

A few weekends ago I was at a fundraising party for a charity in Kenya (my own fundraising party, in fact) and all the guests were tasked with completing certain missions before the night was up in order to earn points. Some missions were easy and earned few points (hug a bouncer), others were more more challenging and so earned lots of points (turn a team of 5 people upside down in any way you like). On my way home with a few fellow party-survivors I  was very happy (not least because it wasn't my home I was going to but a friend's, thereby ensuring that the social spectacular would last another day). Much mischief had been achieved, much wine had been drunk and much funding had been raised. To make matters even better it was snowing and none of us were sober enough to feel the cold. Win, win.
You might think at this point that we were on the pinnacle of drunken satisfaction, but no, as we skipped through the snowflakes we came across a chip shop, still open at 3am. Marvellous! And once inside, with my sufficiently greasy order placed, I realised that there were still one more challenge that could be completed. Hurah! This in fact was a much more exciting pursuit than food, which I soon forgot about. It was imperative that I exercise the opportunity to take of an item of underwear and wave it in the air (thereby earning 5 more points for my team). Actually, better still, everyone ought to join in, that would be more appropriate. One female friend was keen but the other required a bit of cajoling. The boys weren't invited to join in - we needed them to hold our jackets and be the photographer. Bras were waved vigorously in the air. What a triumph! As the scene unfolded the man behind the chip shop counter tried in vain to attract our attention to tell us our food was ready (not that we were at all interested. Let's face it, it's not every night you get to wave your bra about, but it's fairly commonplace to eat cheesy chips) he was not remotely sympathetic and seemed slightly irritated that we were taking so long to leave the premises. The fact that we were in the middle of something more important clearly didn't register. It must be the case that the staff of late night take-aways have seen it all before. Customers enthralled in the tasks of being eccentric can in no way surprise them. They see the most idiotic of human antics, probably quite regularly.

Some might say, it was out of pure respect, we didn't waste his time but ran out into the night, chips in one hand underwear in the other.